Silhouette
by Diacritical
Summary: It seems almost like regression, doesn't it? Genfic, postgame.
1. Drive Your Thoughts to Distant Memories

**_Author's Note:_** Hi, I hardly ever write, I suck, but I bring what-if drabbly fic that's drabble only in name, really. Because Mana Khemia is a horribly sparse category, and it needs some fleshing out and I am completely in love with these two argh.

Takes place after Vayne's ending (so thus there are a few spoilers).

Written while listening to a mix of Rival's Shadow, Drive Your Thoughts to Distant Memories, TOGGLE, Farewell My Youthful Days, and The Illusionary Patty-Ridge from the OSTs. |D;; Also while suffering from a decided lack of sleep.

It WAS originally going to be a one-shot, but...

March 27th, 2009  
Word count: 1134  
Unbetaed  
No pairings, unless you want to read it that way.

* * *

"So… Roxis?"

He's not heard that name said in that tone of voice for a very long time. He ignores it, continues to finish off those reports, because eventually, the ghost will stop haunting him.

"Roxis, look at me."

And against his better judgment, he does.

The sight that meets his gaze is…

Before he realizes what he is doing, he's reaching a hand out to touch the other. "You're real," he murmurs, awestruck. "Why…"

"Let's… just say I came to terms with myself."

He snaps back into reality, and the dreamy look disappears from his face. The paperwork once again is his focus; he really needs to fill out these forms and requests so he can submit them tomorrow- he's running low on ingredients in the infirmary.

"Hey- Roxis-"

"Why are you here?" he asks curtly, not looking up from the table.

The question seems to confuse the other; it's a few moments before he replies. "…Why wouldn't I be here…?"

"You disappeared, and everyone believed you were dead. We all tried to leave you behind; after all, we didn't think you would be coming back. Is that not a good enough reason?" He doesn't mean to be snappish—his Mana points out that he should probably be happy, isn't this what he unconsciously devoted himself to?—, but the reappearance of the dead is enough to fray anyone's nerves.

The other man frowns. "Yes, well… I don't deny that that happened but… I did come back, didn't I? I know it's not going to be as easy as that but…"

That tone. Innocence lost; an optimism he's not seen for a long time. And suddenly, he's very tired.

He sighs and slumps in his chair wearily, looking a lot older than his thirty-two years. "Vayne," he begins slowly, referring to the other by his name for the first time in the conversation. "You have to realize that you've been gone for twelve years. Twelve long years."

The vulnerability in the other's tone surprises Vayne. He wasn't expecting to get an answer out of the other that quickly either, and it's several seconds before he responds. "Twelve… years…? I've really been gone that long…?" The meekness in his voice is tangible, as are the implications of guilt.

He waves the other over to a chair, beckoning for him to sit down. Vayne does just that, mutely taking a seat as the medic closes his eyes, trying to collect his thoughts.

When they open, garnet pools peer at him from narrowed eyes. "So what are you going to do now?"

"E-eh? What do you mean? I'm going to find everyone and…"

The blonde makes a small incredulous noise. "That's it? What do you plan to do once you do that? Get us all back together?"

"W-well… I hadn't…"

"Vayne. There's no 'us' anymore. We're not a workshop anymore. We're not in school anymore; hardly any of us knows where the others are. We all lost contact with each other after we left Al-Revis."

"I-I'm sorry…"

"Don't apologize," the blonde snaps. His expression is one of wry amusement; a corner of his lip tugs up in a twisted smirk. "After all, you thought you were doing the right thing, vanishing so that you wouldn't hurt anyone. It's only our fault for taking it so badly; our fault for being so selfish, after all."

The silver-haired man doesn't look up from the floor. He swallows, and mutters weakly, "I'm… I'm going to make things right. I'll fix everything that my disappearing made wrong."

It's too much. The blonde lets out a harsh bark of a laugh, and Vayne can only stare, startled out of his thoughts. "You?" the blonde manages to get out between hysteric giggles, "Make things right? How exactly are you going to manage that? You vanish from the world, good as dead, reappear twelve years later, and expect to be able to pick up the pieces that easily? Oh, _Vayne._ What are you going to do; wish it all better?"

He's not expecting the other's next statement.

"…I can't, even if I wanted to."

He regains some composure; enough to utter, "…Hmm?"

He's intrigued. And as he leans forward slightly, Vayne looks him directly in the eyes, wordlessly communicating more than he could ever vocalize. The silver-haired man smiles self-deprecatingly. "I probably should, though. You and Flay… you've changed a lot… because of me. But I can't."

The medic smiles back wistfully, fingers tapping out melancholy rhythms on the table. "I won't deny that we've changed. But…" he pauses, biting down a needlessly scathing remark, "Besides the issues of trying to make things 'right'… explain why you can't. You don't want it enough?"

Vayne knows those last few words aren't meant to be harsh, but he can't help but wince. "I… I physically can't. When I wished myself back, I left all my power as a Mana behind. I'm a normal human now."

His gaze is passive. "And Sulpher?"

"A normal cat. He'd always been, really. He… well, the other me… I think he gave him back. He said something about a parting gift, and I think Sulpher's younger now…" the once-Mana replies, stroking the cat in question.

Silence then, as everything sinks in.

"I… see…"

"…"

"…Human now, really?" The wry grin is back. "You were human before we discovered you a Mana."

"I- just because we didn't know-"

"You were still human after we found out that you were a Mana."

"I…" The silver-haired man visibly flinches.

"Vayne, what you were didn't matter! Human or Mana, your actions have the same effect! I spent a decade convincing myself that you did what you thought was best for us, and I'm not sure I succeeded. Seeing you here, in the flesh, makes me wonder if that was pointless."

"I'm… sorry…"

"Don't apologize, that makes things all the worse. Vayne, I _hate _you, you know that. I always have, and I can't fathom why you'd come to me of all people when Gunnar Damm is just a few buildings away."

The cat hisses warningly at the blonde, tensing from its position on the once-Mana's shoulder, but a hand quickly comes up to quiet it. He watches the action dispassionately, arching one elegant eyebrow when the other smiles weakly—relievedly, he realizes later—at him.

"You don't know how good it is to see you again, Roxis," the silver-haired man breathes, and pulls the other man into a hug. The blonde goes slack in the other's grip, expression one of astonishment.

But after getting over the shock, Roxis slowly, hesitantly, returns the embrace.

"It's not going to be that easy," the bespectacled alchemist warns Vayne without much conviction in his voice. Vayne only nods disjointedly and returns a mild grin.

"Yeah, I know. I know, Roxis."

* * *

What, were you expecting Roxis to just accept his long-lost friend back? I don't think so. The ending though, still seems sorta sickly sweet...

...For the record, in my headcanon, Flay's full name is Flay Gunnar Damm. That is all.

This stupid scenario refuses to die, by the way. Hell, I've sketched out Professor!Roxis and argh no.

...does anyone read these?


	2. Rival's Shadow

**_Author's Note:_** Vayne/Roxis sort of fics are somewhat common around this sparse little category, aren't they? If this fic actually gets completed, all the characters should appear, so don't let this and the first chapter fool you into thinking this'll purely be Vayne and Roxis centric (for better or worse)- it just so happens that they're the most solid voices I have right now...

Oh, it should be noted that I hardly have any knowledge about Mana Khemia 2 at all. Whatever might be there is all extrapolated. Feel free to correct me on things...

April 15th, 2009  
Word count: 2654  
Unbetaed  
Again, no pairings. There aren't any pairings in this at all, unless of course you like to read it that way.  
The tense shift about a third through is deliberate. General tense sort of weirdness slips by sometimes though, so don't hesitate to point things out.

* * *

_Time doesn't wait._

---

The skies were clear again today, like they'd been for a week.

A faint breeze rushed by the foot of a tree, where an alchemist and his Mana rested. The alchemist in question shifted, noticing the position of the sun in the sky and deciding that they had rested long enough. The wolf at his side whined a bit, not quite ready to move from its comfortable position, but one deadened glare got it to cooperate, if unwillingly.

He looked up again. The skies were clear, but he took that with a grain of salt. Turbulent storms could build up and rage quickly through what had once been perfect weather.

But, he supposed, the world would be rather dull if things stagnated that way.

The world's been rather peaceful since then. Or, rather, it's as peaceful as it had been before he was dragged into that workshop.

And no matter how much he may deny it, he'd enjoyed it. Had, at least.

It's been five years since he's vanished. Five years since their workshop split up and lost contact with each other.

Five years since he decided to pursue a career in medicinal alchemy.

The decision was made on a whim, which was surprising, even to him, considering his temperament. But he had known Vayne enough to know what he might have done. This was his way of reminding himself.

He hasn't forgotten.

He hasn't forgiven.

He can't bring himself to hate.

---

Mana have gotten weaker, he discovered. The raw energy in the air was also thin, something he noticed while trying and failing to synthesize medical potions with a quality ether level.

It's been getting more difficult for him to travel alone as well; his combat skills had never been as good as Flay or Vayne's. His constitution had never been so strong, but at the very least he was able to hold his own in battle.

It'd never been easy, per se, but now…

Sometimes he woke up to his Mana snuffling at him without a clue as to what had happened other than various injuries marking his body. He wondered, sometimes, whether or not he should stop wandering. Those thoughts were quashed quickly whenever they appeared; his pride won't let him stop. He had a goal too, and he'll reach it. If worst came to worst, he might be able to find a traveling partner; and he entertained the thought that it might be someone he had known.

---

He heard that the academy collapsed. Indifferently, he wondered what had become of it, and what had become of its residents; Pamela in particular, since she's forced to haunt the school. Was she free now that the school was gone? Or has she ceased to exist, like Vayne?

Life carries on either way, just like it did in the latter's case.

Times were changing. He's being met with more hostile looks now, for his strange garb and unexplained abilities. His Mana, in particular, draws some hateful stares, and he notices quickly. He doesn't ever let the wolf out anymore in towns, and the Mana's smart enough to grudgingly stay out of sight. Alchemy's being met with more resentment now, though he has completely benign motives; he's a _doctor_, he helps and cures. They didn't seem to care much for him despite it.

He's not sure if that's due to jealousy or fear.

He's not sure he wants to know why things have changed.

The wolf's eyes glimmered faintly.

---

Al-Revis still existed, he discovered.

It's changed locations and has an entirely new campus, and shockingly enough, wasn't an alchemy school anymore. Zeppel's become principal now, and he worried for the fate of Al-Revis. The old principal may have been weak-willed as well, but at least he had been a man who knew what he was doing. The vice-principal could've always kept him in check if he was a bit too spineless.

Perhaps that's useless, seeing as it's already no longer an alchemy school. Some distant corner of his mind mourned the future fate of alchemy, and the legacy of its practitioners.

---

He's had an interesting encounter with a young man.

Perhaps he's worse off than he thought, since even forest monsters were giving him trouble. His enchanted cards have become somewhat less effective with the decline of Mana in the world, and in the forest it's hard to get a solid foothold or clear shot at anything, really. So he's left using his staff physically, which had never been his strong point.

He probably would have died of shame had he fallen there, but lo and behold, a blue-haired young man with an exceedingly intriguing weapon comes from the trees to save him. As it is, he's still split between being horrified at needing to be saved from such enemies, and relieved, since he'd been traveling for a while and was extremely tired by this point.

The skirmish resolves quickly with the addition of a melee fighter, and out of politeness he thanks the boy and prepares to move on. He pauses when the young man calls for him to wait, introduces himself, and asks him, not unkindly but definitely not in a friendly manner, what he was doing here.

Rozeluxe, he calls himself. He's mildly amused, but is more interested the way that the teenager reminded him of himself. He's somewhat disconcerted by the similarities he finds, and only slightly disturbed when the boy reveals a deep-seated hatred of Mana when he summons his own. It's a little reminiscent of how he used to be so obsessed with Vayne.

In a way, it was like looking into a distorted mirror of the past. Had he really been that bad?

He explains his reasons for being there, and queries about why that's so wrong.

He's reasonably shocked when he learns that the boy attends Al-Revis, the new Al-Revis. It explained why the boy was so wary; if the forest were part of campus search grounds…

He's even more shocked to find that Flay, Flay Gunnar Damm, is now the teacher of the "Art of Battle" class- and a distant corner of his mind wonders what sort of class that even _was_. His former workshop mate is this boy's _homeroom teacher_, of all things.

What has the world come to?

---

"Where are you going?" the wolf asks.

He turns somewhat confusedly to the familiar. He purses his lips.

The wolf doesn't relent. "Where are you going?" it repeats.

He pauses, and chooses his words carefully. "Wherever I will."

The Mana's eyes bore into him as he turns away. "Where are you going?"

He ignores the question.

---

He finds his travels taking him in circles around the new campus; he's never too far from the grounds surrounding the academy. He's not sure whether that's out of a feeling of nostalgia or not; nowadays he wanders wherever things take him. He'll admit he's very intrigued by the variety of landscapes and environments that surround the school.

Over a decade now, he muses, resting in a darklit forest. Over a decade since graduation.

Has it really been that long?

Well, the three years he spent at Al-Revis also went by impossibly fast…

He feels the first echoes of any sort of strong emotion in a long while when a face he'd hoped not to see again appears from the trees. Even after all these years, he doesn't take any better to sudden appearances than before.

As it is, Flay nearly gives him a heart attack.

Much to the amusement of the embodiment of light.

---

He wakes up in the infirmary, he thinks. The room is empty. He doesn't remember passing out but wouldn't be surprised if he finds out he did.

A look around the room serves to reinforce his guess. Clean linen and sheets and a well-kept room cement the belief and his dread at the same time. He's taken him to Al-Revis.

Just what is that man thinking?

He dresses, gathers his belongings, and storms out of the room in a ruffled but dignified manner- he is a Rosenkrantz after all- and sets out to find the red-haired nuisance.

---

Flay Gunnar Damm gives off a mysterious sort of presence now.

To him, it's the air of a person who's changed much but hasn't at all.

How troublesome.

What, he grinds out, did you expect to accomplish by bringing me here. Fulfillment of some inane sense of nostalgia?

Beside him, Rozeluxe seems a bit regretful for leading him to the room. Or was he regretting ever telling the man in front of him of their encounter?

The other man's face seems oddly grim considering the question, but this is Flay. The man was like an ever-shifting force of nature- and even as he thinks of the description, it doesn't seem to fit-, and you could never take him seriously, lest you forfeit all dignity or worse.

Especially the latter, if the other hasn't given up that hobby he had taken up with Vayne in their last few years. It's more than likely, since he's noticed inconspicuously curious people paying oddly keen attention to him, to put it lightly. One of the very few bonuses of being as high-strung as he was and still is.

Come to think of it, it started after his encounter with Rozeluxe, and part of his mind now wonders how he didn't see this coming.

He still has enough self-control to reign in the murderous vibes directed at his red-haired elder when said man unrepentantly explains in no uncertain terms that he is to become a teacher here. They'd been in need of a medical specialist to run the infirmary for a while.

It's not an alchemy school anymore, he replies flatly. There's no explicit need to have a medical alchemist, especially when there are other classes and faculty members that can do the same without alchemy.

No, the elder agrees. Then he reveals something. Zeppel asked him specifically to find the blonde after he heard that the Rosenkrantz was in the area. The head of the school would like to say that he won't take no for an answer, but they both know Zeppel. The man grimaces slightly, and the blonde finds himself agreeing, much to his displeasure. Flay makes it clear that he, at least, won't take no for an answer. Then, in familiar melodramatic flair, _Or else_.

He almost protests that he doesn't even have any sort of experience or training or anything, really, before remembering that this is Flay Goddamn-Gunnar-Damm. Again he wonders how in the world his former upperclassman got the job, and in a more unsettling turn of thought, why he accepted in the first place. But he snaps back to the present with a sense of dread.

It seemed almost like giving up. It _was_ giving up. But _fine_, he forces out. His traveling cloak and coat flare out as he spins on his heel and glides towards the door- he doesn't stalk, stalking would be undignified. He would like to maintain some semblance of composure.

At the door, however, he turns and gives some parting words. For both our sakes, let's hope you've given up on some of your delusions of grandeur, he deadpans, with enough sardonic derision to rival that of his teenage self.

Rozeluxe meets him outside the room, looking slightly apologetic.

But when the boy asks whether or not he might get along any better with one Tony Eisler, it takes all of his self-control not to bang his head on the nearest wall.

His Mana watches all this with some amount of content. Perhaps there's some hope for him after all.

He'd never been the quite the same since Vayne disappeared.

It's no fun bothering someone who didn't care.

---

Dr. Rosenkrantz doesn't offer much to prove the Mana's hopes. Within a few weeks of the term, he grudgingly begins to accept the job and settles in nicely- as nicely as he could, at least. He treats everyone with a professional amount of politeness, managing to muster up a smile for the more timid patients. In the classroom he is curt and to the point, but doesn't hesitate to explain or elaborate should a student need it.

But it's no better than before. Looking at the man now, the Mana can still see the boy that had come begging to pact with him; only there's even less now- where's his reason? He's still distant and cold and detached and disillusioned. There's no passion; the wolf would bet that there's even less now than when he was a wandering alchemist.

It's funny, how so much growth can vanish.

---

He shuffles through the paperwork with a sigh, filing them neatly and shifting some to the side to be finished later. A knock sounds on his door as he is filling out papers, and his writing doesn't waver at all, still flowing elegantly as he allows whomever it is in.

A disinterested eye wanders over to the doorway when the figure doesn't say anything. He exhales, resting his head on his hand when he sees whom it is.

"Yes? What do you want, Eisler?" He makes no attempt to falsify a tone of interest or politeness. "I'm busy; is there a reason you've chosen to disturb me?"

The other doesn't seem very disturbed by the welcome. "It's nice to see you too, Rosenkrantz. Can't I check up on an old friend?" the redhead drawls.

"If you don't have anything better to do, please leave," he murmurs, straightening himself back out to refocus on the papers.

The other falls silent, looking at the wall for a while. "Look," he begins awkwardly. "I know I wasn't the nicest guy back at the academy, but-"

"Leave."

"I'm trying to apologize to you, damn it. If we're going to be colleagues-"

"Unlike you, I've left such things in the past. Long ago, as a matter of fact; you need not apologize for such a petty reason. Now kindly show yourself to the exit."

It's quiet, and he takes the lack of sound to mean that the other's gone. Then:

"I don't know what happened in your guys' senior year. But…"

No work's going to be done tonight, and he realizes this fact with a sigh. The papers are put in a drawer for later, and he gets up to face the other man fully, uniform billowing out and pooling in dark shadows by his legs. He doesn't say anything, merely looks at the other man with an expectant expression.

Tony, to his credit, realizes that the medic isn't going to speak. "You've changed. Flay's changed."

"Has he now?"

"You know it as well as I."

He plays idly with a strand of hair. "No, I don't. Please, do elaborate."

"Stop that. What happened to the people I used to hate? What happened in that last year?"

"Must you pry so hard for answers? If Flay hasn't told you, what makes you think I would?"

The alchemy teacher opens and closes his mouth uselessly for a few moments, but quickly composes himself. When he speaks, his tone is bitter. "I thought you, out of all the people in your workshop, would've been reasonable."

He only tilts his head inquiringly. "Eisler, I am being very reasonable. But I fail to grasp what good your knowing would do."

The other's hands clench and unclench. "Is it so bad to want to know…? You all were so close once, and now- what happened to you guys…?"

He exhales again in tired resignation. "If that is all that this exchange will revolve around," and there is no light in his eyes as he intones dully, "I must ask you again to kindly leave."

That statement ends the conversation, and Tony Eisler is left staring at the other man's retreating shadow as he vanishes into the dim lamplight.

---

_Except that he does._

* * *

So now you have a handle on how fragmented my writing is. Reviews are always appreciated. Rip it apart if you'd please, I latch onto constructive criticism like a leech because I am aware that my writing can be improved (a lot).

Next up's probably Flay himself. I'm not sure if I can do him justice- Roxis' opinion of him is also my own...


End file.
